


evaluation of a cowboy reputation

by tosca1390



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1921089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When she steps into her office and shuts the door behind her, the box on her desk startles her. It’s a plain brown box, too big for shoes, too big for clothes. Riley’s scent, all luscious familiarity, is draped over it. Everything else in the room is neat as a pin, just as she likes it. The poster from Carnaval hangs on her wall, now a happy reminder of the not-so-long-ago past. She smiles and sets her bag down in the chair opposite her desk, walks around to her side. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“What the hell, Kincaid?” she mutters to herself, stroking over the lid of the box. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	evaluation of a cowboy reputation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empressearwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/gifts), [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts), [theepiccek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theepiccek/gifts), [spyglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyglass/gifts), [hariboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariboo/gifts), [Sonni89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonni89/gifts), [icannotlivewithoutmysoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icannotlivewithoutmysoul/gifts), [torigates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/gifts), [katayla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/gifts).



> Y'all knew it was bound to happen. 
> 
> For Jess, the worst enabler. Also, everybody else: have some porn to light up your day.

*

Mercy walks into the corridor leading to her office at CTX, and stops immediately. Her nose twitches. 

_That_ was not the scent of a cat. 

No, she thinks, the leopard within stretching out in comfort and pleasure. This is the scent of a wolf, teasing her as she walks down the hall to her closed office door. And not just any wolf; this is her mate, her complementary half. 

“What the hell was he doing here?” she mutters, unlocking her office door. They were two weeks back from Brazil, from roaming around the jungles and Rio de Janeiro, from meals with her grandmother and drinks out with her fellow leopards. She can still feel the sunshine and heat if she thinks on it long enough, can still see Riley in the glimmering jungle sunlight, a dark shadowed solid wall of a man. 

That jungle _saw_ some things, she thinks with a smile. 

When she steps into her office and shuts the door behind her, the box on her desk startles her. It’s a plain brown box, too big for shoes, too big for clothes. Riley’s scent, all luscious familiarity, is draped over it. Everything else in the room is neat as a pin, just as she likes it. The poster from Carnaval hangs on her wall, now a happy reminder of the not-so-long-ago past. She smiles and sets her bag down in the chair opposite her desk, walks around to her side. 

“What the hell, Kincaid?” she mutters to herself, stroking over the lid of the box. She has piles of paperwork to catch up on, but she is fully distracted by the present on her desk. Damn stubborn wolf. Can’t the man just give her a gift in their own damn house?

A smile flits across her face as she thinks on the cabin that is slowly becoming theirs. She has moved most of her personal effects there – her old cabin on DarkRiver lands to be repurposed for younger members – and is slowly bringing her own bright decorative flair to the very _Riley_ cabin. The guest rooms still need work, and Bastien keeps grumbling about the lack of kitchen supplies, but Mercy knows it’ll get done. She likes doing things like picking throw pillows and wall decorations with Riley, even when he stares stonily and expresses no opinion whatsoever. It makes for fun little quarrels and make ups. 

Mercy sighs to herself and flips open the lid. She’s an idiot in love with an idiot. No wonder Lucas went all squirrelly around Sascha. 

What greets her gaze makes her burst out into a hard laugh, her skin heating. 

“You asshole,” she says through a laugh, delighted beyond belief. Perhaps somewhere in the back of her mind, she had worried that once the mating was over, the playful part of Riley she had seen so briefly would disappear. It had been impossible to smother in Brazil, what with the mating so fresh and the vacation so wonderfully fun and rare; here, back into the everyday grind, the worry had returned. 

Now, as she lifts the cowboy hat out of its box and glances it over in all its brown-suede glory, she has no worries whatsoever. 

*

A shift in the office, followed by a shift along Lucas and Sascha’s aerie, means that Mercy doesn’t pull up into the clearing by their cabin until late, past midnight. The cabin is dark, and Riley’s vehicle is nowhere to be seen. Working late, perhaps checking in on Drew; when his younger brother had been shot, Mercy carried Riley’s pain like a bruise, like it was her own. She doesn’t begrudge him his time with his family any more than he would time with hers; still, she misses him, in the cool spring darkness. 

As she gets out of the shower, pleasantly refreshed, she can see the flicker of headlights through the wide windows, glinting for a moment along the wooden floorboards. Mercy smiles, the mating bond a warm surety within her. She dries herself quickly, hangs up her towel, and hurries naked into their bedroom, her damp hair heavy down the line of her back.

Riley’s footsteps are quiet through the house as he walks in, as if he fears waking her. She snorts to herself, sitting on the edge of the bed to tug on her brown leather boots. Anticipation rises in her as she plops the hat on top of her head, tipping it just so. She can see the shadow of his broad tall form through the open doorway of their bedroom, his slow prowl down the hall. Crossing her legs at the knees, she leans back on her palms and grins as he stops just short of the doorway, taking her in. 

“Howdy,” she says to the wolf that holds her heart. 

His dark eyes roll into the wolf, glowing in the dark shadows of the cool spring night. The windows are thrown wide open, curtains fluttering in the breeze. The scent of pine and high Sierra snows and Riley fill her nose. 

“Damn, if this isn’t something to come home to,” he says, voice low. 

Cat stretching out languidly with pleasure, she tilts her head and arches her back, thrusting her chest up. “Some clever wolf left me a present today.”

“Clever?” he repeats, kicking off his shoes as he steps into the bedroom and shuts the door behind him. His arousal scents the room, dark and male. It sends a shudder through her, warmth pooling low in her belly. 

“Well. Clever enough to keep up with me,” she says coyly. 

His large dark hands go to his t-shirt, lifting it over his head. “Nice hat.”

“You like? I thought it suited me,” she teases. Her eyes drag over him as he strips with lean efficiency, his clothes littering the cool hardwood floors. Usually he is neat as a pin; tonight, she is glad to distract. 

“I thought it did too,” he murmurs, the desire evident in his voice. There is no small smile on his lips, just the hot focus of want, directed at her. She likes when he puts all that solid determined focus on her. She likes pushing back against it, too. 

She stands as he approaches her, planting her hands on her hips. She has no shame in her naked body, especially when Riley looks at her with such hungry intent. The hat on her head tilts forward, over one eye. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she teases, her hands shifting to splay over the toned curve of her stomach. Her fingers drift towards the coppery curls between her thighs. She’s already wet for him – not that she’ll admit it. 

He can scent it well enough. 

“It’s better,” he rasps, cupping her face between his hands and bringing her mouth to his. His kiss is a wild thing, all lips and tongue and wet heat. She twines her arms around his neck and nestles into the cradle of his chest, opening her mouth to his with an ease that came naturally when with him. Everything has always felt _right_ with him, even when both woman and cat fought it tooth and nail. 

“Watch the hat,” she mutters against his mouth as his fingers twine in her hair. 

“You won’t be able to keep it on anyway,” he replies, voice a low growl as his lips slide over her jawline. 

Laughing, she pushes away from him playfully. “Lay down, cowboy. It’s time to ride,” she says, turning him back towards the bed. 

Amusement glints in his night-glow eyes. Naked, he stretches out on the bed, flat on his back, a fist curved around his erection. 

“That’s mine tonight, buddy,” she says with a smirk, climbing up onto the bed and straddling him at the waist. She bats at his hands and pushes the hat back off of her brow. 

“It’s yours every night, kitty cat,” he murmurs, all appreciation. His hands slide over her thighs. The twinned scents of their arousal fill the air, weaving into the pine and clean water from the forests outside. 

“Deliciously so,” she says. She leans over and kisses him once again, her hands sinking into the thick fall of his hair to keep his face right where she wants it. She licks into his mouth and maps his lips with hers, taking his kiss inside of her as deep as she can. 

Pleasure and want reverberate within her, the mating bond thrumming with life and warmth. She smiles against his lips and moves her mouth to the hard line of his jaw, the taut cords of his throat. Her teeth sink into his neck, leaving a mark no one will miss; as she licks over it with quick feline strokes, he groans under her. 

“Mercy – Jesus – “

“Are you going to be a wild ride tonight, wolf?” she breathes into his shoulder. Her hands rest at his ribs, feeling the indentation of muscle and bone under hot sleek skin. “Will I have trouble keeping my seat?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. She laughs, kissing and biting her way down his chest. She licks at the dark ovals of his nipples, grazes her teeth over them. His hands clench on her back and he swears, low in his throat. Her cat stretches underneath her skin, claws kissing his hips as she slides over him. Her cunt is wet and slick just from touching him, tasting him; she can see the glint of her desire on his hard stomach as she shifts down his body. 

“You make me so crazy, Riley,” she murmurs as she loops her fingers around his erection, the skin hard and hot and a lovely weight in her palm. 

“I like it,” he growls, eyes heavy-lidded in the darkness of the room. 

She straightens up, straddling his thighs, and smiles wickedly. “How do I look?”

He hisses out a breath as she strokes him with rough, slow fingers. “Like every fantasy I could ever picture,” he groans. 

“I like the sound of that,” she muses, delighted by him always. 

His hands steal through her damp hair and over her belly to cup her breasts, thumbs rubbing at the sensitive peaks of her nipples. She sighs into the touch, the skin to skin contact utterly pleasurable. 

“Let me in, Mercy,” he murmurs, throat taut with need. His body thrums under her touch, flushed and damp with sweat. “I need you – “

Shifting her hips over him, she guides him into her, all wet heat and hardness. Moaning with the contact, she rests her hands over his sweat-damp chest, rocking her hips into his. Her nails dig into his muscles, pleasure shuddering through her sharply. 

“ _Jesus_ -“ he groans, back arched off the bed. 

Amusement and affection fill every pore. She stretches up and adjusts the hat on her head, the press of her boots against his thighs a heady sensation. “This is pretty much as good as I thought it would be,” she teases breathlessly as she begins to move on him. 

His hips thrust off the bed as he plays with the warm full curves of her breasts. A glimmer of a smile curves his mouth. He opens his eyes to watch her, love and want in every line of his face. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs. 

One of his hands slides down her belly to touch between her thighs, his clever fingers finding her clit through damp curls. She shudders and grinds down onto him, panting. His muscles strained beneath her, he touches her with rough strokes, just as she wants it tonight. Her hands flatten on his belly, keeping her upright as he drives up into her and she matches him, stroke for stroke. The pleasure crests within her, a hot white heat coupled with his unrelenting love and affection that leaves her breathless. 

“Give it up, cowboy,” she says breathlessly. 

In response, he slides his hand from her breast and cups the back of her head, bringing her down for a hot, wet kiss. His teeth sink into her lip and she comes with a low groan, all but purring as she rocks hard against the friction of his fingertips. He thrusts up into her once more, shuddering as he comes, her name reverberating from his mouth with a growl. His fingers knock the hat away and she shifts over him, panting for breath, plastered skin to skin. 

It takes a long moment for her to regain sensible thought. Then again, he seems fairly content to just stroke his hands through her hair, hold her against him as his heartbeat thunders beneath her. 

Laughing at last, she slips away from him, the feel of him inside of her a pleasant ache. She turns onto her back and grabs the hat from its wayward landing at the edge of the bed, holding it between her fingertips. All her muscles are pleasantly lax, her heartbeat warm and fast with love for him in her chest. 

“Good idea,” he says at last, voice a low rumble. 

“I know,” she murmurs, glancing at him. 

He’s shifted onto his side, watching her with human eyes. But she can sense the wolf is close, heavy in their bond. She reaches out to brush the dark swear hair from his brow, her touch gentle. 

“I love you, wolf,” she says quietly, every inch of her quivering with love for him. 

His mouth twitches. There is the smile, soft and slow and hers. It has her name in every curve. “I love you too, kitty cat.”

Grinning, she reaches over and plops the hat on his head. “Don’t you look like a regular cow wrangler,” she teases as he bats at the hat, pushing it off of his brow. 

“Hot?” he asks gravely, and she laughs. 

“Incredibly,” she murmurs, leaning up on an elbow and kissing his smiling mouth. 

His arms slide around her waist and bring her close to him, his hands splayed on her back, rubbing against the damp waves of her hair. “Next, I get to tie you up.”

“Could be arranged,” she murmurs. “You better put that mouth to use, though.”

The cowboy hat looks ridiculous on top of his head. He grins and turns her onto her back, covering her with the hot muscle of his body. His hands skim over the line of her leg, tugging on her boots. Her thighs part as he kneels between them, stripping the leather boots from her calves with gentle efficiency. 

“I think I can convince you,” he murmurs, his voice deliciously low. 

When his mouth descends between her thighs, she twines her fingers into his thick dark hair and laughs, the sensation of loving and being loved filling her every pore. 

*


End file.
